Run That Race
by PixelEm
Summary: A series of short one-shots giving glimpses into the lives of Lightning McQueen, Cruz Ramirez, and the many, many cars that populate their lives. (Warning: Cars 3 spoilers)
1. The Back of the Ambulance

**Hoo boy...**

 **...wait for it...**

 ***inhales***

 **…** **.CARS 3 WAS SO GOOD AND IT HAD EVERYTHING I'D EVER WANTED IN A CARS SEQUEL AND IT WAS SO CUTE AND FUNNY AND MADE ME CRY AND OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO GOOD :''''DDDD**

 **…** **ahem. Yeah, as you can see, Cars 3 was an absolute blast :3 And, because of the release of the new film, I'm officially inspired to write fanfics again! :D**

 **This will be a series of short one-shots and flash fiction stories, and they will take place throughout the chronological series, across all three films. A lot of these were actually suggestions from my fans and followers, so if one of you guys gave me a suggestion and you are reading this now, so thank you so much for these suggestions! :D**

 **Speaking of which, this first story was suggested by Fanfiction user Tin Lizzies (though honestly, it was only a matter of time before I wrote something like this...)**

 **But, I should give a quick warning: these stories WILL DEFINITELY contain spoilers for Cars 3. If you have not watched the film or any of the trailers, go and do that before coming back here. This has been a PSA.**

 **Now, with that all out of the way, please enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Even after so long, no, I definitely still do not own Disney and Pixar's Cars. Sorry guys. :\**

"…You're gonna be okay, I know you'll be okay. You'll be fine… We're gonna get you some help… They'll fix you up… I know it…"

Sally kept repeating it – more to herself than to McQueen. She sat next to him, in the back of a wailing ambulance, speeding away from the racetrack towards the nearest hospital. Just a mere half an hour ago she'd watched perhaps the most horrifying thing happen to him – he'd spun out, slammed into the wall, then into the pavement, _over and over and over again_ – and she'd been completely powerless to stop it.

Nurses and ambulances had been on the scene in an instant, pulling up next to McQueen's motionless body and checking the extremities of his injuries. Sally, of course, had sped onto the track – she'd just _had_ to get to him – just as Mater, Luigi, Guido, and the others did the same. She'd almost cried when she made it to his side – both from seeing her boyfriend be torn apart, and from the security cars who'd immediately pushed her away so the nurses could do their jobs.

They'd soon had him on a stretcher, ready to load him onto the approaching ambulance. Then, when one of the nurses asked her and the rest of his team if one of them wanted to ride with him, she'd practically thrown herself into the back of the truck.

She _needed_ to be with him. She needed it just as she needed oil and gas to stay alive.

Looking at him now, Sally felt the urge to scream rising up yet again. Sharp dents and cuts covered McQueen's entire frame, a few of them still bleeding dark oil. Much of his paint had been scraped clean off upon impact, and his spoiler had been torn off, still hanging on by a sliver of metal. His eyes were shut, and the only indication that he was even alive was the shallow puffs of breath coming from his mouth. The nurses had stuck an IV in his side right before they'd taken off. As the ambulance went over speed bumps and made sharp turns Sally fought the instinct to reach out and keep the stupid needle in place with her own tires; she was _just so sure_ it was going to be ripped out somehow…

Sally kept her tire wrapped around McQueen's, squeezing it hard whenever she needed to reassure herself. Half the time she expected him to react to it – he'd jolt awake, go "Ow", look at her and say "Whoa, watch it, that hurts". And damn her if she didn't _want_ him to react – she wanted something, _anything_ that told her that he was still here… with _her_ –

"Y-You… you _are_ here… You can hear me, can't you?" she said, her voice a shaky whisper, "You're… you're gonna be fine, Stickers… I'm sure of it… They'll fix you up… You'll be okay… Okay?"

Still no reaction. Of course.

Sally bit her lip and pulled her tire away from McQueen, pushing the blinds away from the ambulance window. She leaned forwards, looked at the outside world. She spied a few tall, spotless buildings in the city ahead. She quietly prayed to the Manufacturer that at least one of those was the hospital.

Then she heard something that made her entire frame freeze over.

"…S-S…S-Sal…?"

It was small, weak, almost inaudible – and yet she still heard it.

Her mouth feeling like sandpaper, Sally turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

He was still there. Still broken. But he'd _opened his eyes_ – just by a little bit. He was staring at her. Looking right at her between his slit windshields, the whites of his eyes glassy and tinged with red.

Sally stared right back, swallowing hard. She felt that familiar pressure build behind her eyes as she looked him over, took in his sorry state yet again. She drove forwards a centimeter.

"S-Stickers– ?"

As quickly as he'd come back to her, he left again. He shut his eyes, letting out a ragged, groaning breath as he did so. Sally sat frozen for a few seconds before gripping his tire again, giving it a light jostle. Nothing. Not even a twitch. He only lied there, only breathing to show how alive he was.

Sally couldn't take her eyes off of McQueen, even as her eyes filled with tears and a sob filled her throat.

"…You… are… going… to…. be… _fine_ …"

 **...You guys miss my special brand of angst? :3**

 **Anyway, more is definitely to come! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought! See you in the next one!**

 **~Pixel**


	2. End of an Era

**Okay, first of all, before I start this chapter up: HOLY CRAP. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME. ELEVEN REVIEWS, FIVE FAVES,** ** _AND_** **TEN FOLLOWS JUST AFTER** ** _ONE DAY_** **. THANK YOU ALL SO, SO MUCH :''D**

 **Okay then, now that I have that off my chest, I should preface this one with a MAJOR spoiler warning for Cars 3 (considering it includes a bunch of major characters and one very specific event from the film). So again, if you have not watched the film yet, I'd highly recommend doing that before reading this.**

 **Also, this was another suggestion from user Tin Lizzies, so thank you again if you're reading this :)**

 **With that done, please enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: My ownership of Pixar's Cars franchise is like a unicorn.** ** _IT DOESN'T EXIST._**

"You sure you wanna go back? That was a pretty bad crash, Hud– "

Doc rolled his eyes, cutting off his friend with a small groan as they drove along. "Smokey," he snapped, "I know I'm fine. Just… look at me." He gestured towards himself, raising an eyebrow in Smokey's direction. "Do I still look smashed up to you?"

Smokey blinked. "Uh…"

"No, I don't." Doc finished for him. "They have no reason to refuse to let me race again. I'm fine now." With that, he turned away from Smokey and kept his eyes on the road ahead.

Smokey took a moment to look his friend up and down, taking extra time to read and reread those stickers of his, and let out a silent sigh.

"…Now, Hud…" he said, "…I wasn't sayin' they ain't gunna let you race again. I'm just sayin' that…"

He paused then, to look at Doc's frame yet again. He blinked, and in an instant he saw _them_ again – the dents and bruises that'd marked up the Fabulous Hudson Hornet's body after he'd slipped and tumbled into the sand, crashing into the hard earth with little chance to control it –

Smokey swallowed hard before continuing, "…I'm just sayin that… I dun't think you could handle another crash like that, Hud. I dun't think you should risk– "

"Smokey."

Smokey had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep himself from groaning. Doc had slipped into _that_ voice, the one that he'd heard all too much from the other car, the one he only used when he thought his friends were spewing infuriating nonsense.

"Smokey." Doc looked at him again, his eyerims furrowed. "I'm _not_ crashing like that again. I just slipped. I should've got it, but I just lost control. That was it. I've survived tons of crashes, anyway. _You_ know that."

"I– Uh– Of course _I_ know that, Hud," Smokey replied, "I've watched every race you've done. Of course I've seen you crash before. But _this_ crash? That one ain't just an axel slap, friend, I actually thought you were gonna d– "

"Well, I'm not dead yet," Doc said, lifting his cab, " _No crash_ has killed me yet. And I'm still one of the best races this side of Thomasville. They won't stop me from racing just because I had a run-in with the sand. They haven't done it yet, and they won't do it _now_."

Smokey bit the inside of his mouth even harder as Doc finished his rant, then looked once more towards the road. He sighed again, shaking his cab as he too looked ahead, spying the dirt track in the distance. He thought about the other times he'd seen Doc argue with him like this; he realized that, just like now, it had been about racing. Racing and crashing and driving away from the track.

"…Okay, I know you're worried about me, Smokey." Doc surprised Smokey by softening his tone when he spoke again. "I'd be worried too. But… you know me. I always got back up, even when something unexpected came at me."

At this, Smokey couldn't help his creeping smirk. "Oh, yeah. _That_ I know about you." He raised an eyerim at Doc, chuckling a little. "You remember that rookie from last season? When he tried to push you into that wall?"

He watched his friend for his reaction, and, just as he'd predicted, Doc mirrored his sly grin. "Ah, yes. Never saw my fly-and-roll trick coming, now did he?"

The two friends laughed, which lifted the weight from Smokey's engine. As long as Hud was happy, he was happy.

~x~

Smokey gasped, his eyes growing as large as hubcaps. All that tension in his tank from his conversation with Doc came rushing straight back as he stared at the series of rookies in front of him, each of them sporting an ugly sneer. He replayed what they'd said mere milliseconds ago – _"You're HISTORY."_ – and his engine dropped.

He checked Doc.

He didn't say anything as he stared down the rookies. His eyes kept darting around to look at each of them, as if he could not believe what he'd just heard – though, more likely, he didn't _want_ to believe it.

Then Smokey saw Doc's jaw clench. He saw his eyerims furrow and his tires grip the sand underneath them.

"…Now, Hud… Th-This ain't what you– "

But Doc was already speeding away.

 **...I know, I like to break hearts XD Just kidding :)**

 **A question for you readers though: how did I do for my first time writing Smokey? Or Smokey and Doc? I'd love to write some more stories centered around these two, but first I'd like to know if I should improve their presentations at all.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading! See you all in the next one! :D**

 **~Pixel**


	3. The Haters

**I already had this one completed and ready, so congrats! You guys are getting two stories in the same day! :D**

 **Now, with this one, just like the last one, MAJOR CARS 3 SPOILERS AHEAD. That is all.**

 **This story was also the result of an awesome suggestion from blossomrye4 over on Tumblr, so again, if you are reading this, thank you so much for your suggestion :D**

 **Anywho, once again, you know the drill: sit back, relax, and enjoy this next installment!**

 **DISCLAIMER: C'mon Disney, I should** ** _not_** **have to keep saying this part.**

McQueen could hear them from his podium. At this point in his crew chief career, he was certain he could've heard them even outside the raceway. He'd just rolled up onto the podium and begun adjusting his headset for the day's race when he heard _them_. Those _rookies_. The same ones his apprentice had been up against during the last race, and the race before, _and_ from even the race before (what the hell were even their names… Danny Something and Mike Joyride, right?).

And, just like all those races before, he heard them chatter about the exact same thing. And, just as he did when he'd heard them before, it took every thread of restraint McQueen had to avoid driving up and slapping them both.

Because they always talked about _her_. His apprentice. His smart, funny, optimistic, absolutely awe-inspiring apprentice Cruz Ramirez.

"Five first-place wins in a row, can you believe it, bro?" Danny said to Mike, gesturing towards the huge screen in the middle of the stadium, currently displaying Cruz's image as it listed each competitor.

Mike glanced up at Cruz's smiling face and sneered. "Nah," he said, shaking his cab, " _She_ doesn't deserve it. She just keeps getting lucky. You know she came from some ho-dunk old town? She had nothing until she started working as a trainer!"

Danny nodded firmly, narrowing his eyes at Cruz's image. " _Si_. And then Señor Lightning McQueen saw _that_ and then thought _that_ would be a good replacement for him?"

Mike gave an exaggerated shudder. " _Ech_. You remember when she first raced us? Kept starin' at everyone like they were gonna attack her!"

Danny nodded and pointed at Cruz again. "And still, Lightning McQueen chose her to replace his bumper. A bad choice if _I_ ever saw one…"

"Stickers?"

The familiar voice jolted McQueen's attention away from the two. He looked to his left, where Sally stood just beside the podium. She stared up at him, one eyerim raised.

"…You alright?" she asked, eyeing McQueen.

McQueen blinked. "Uh… why're you asking?"

Sally gestured towards his tires. "You look like you're about to fly off your seat at any second," she said, " _And_ you've been grinding your teeth and scowling for the past minute."

"Really?" McQueen said, on instinct running his tongue over his teeth. He quickly shook his cab though, looking forwards again. "N-No, Sal. I'm good. I'm fine. Honest."

Then Mater, who sat to Sally's immediate left with his enormous #51 blue Dinoco hat perched atop his roof, drove forwards to look at something beyond McQueen's podium, and then winced.

"Dad gum…" he muttered.

McQueen tensed. "…What?" he asked him.

Mater pointed. "Jus' listen tah those nasty fellers! They's talkin' 'bout Cruz over dere!"

Just as McQueen realized what he was talking about, he heard the two again:

"Her only win, in a demolition derby… give me a Dodge Ram _break_ …"

"It would not surprise me if she did not train to race at all, and she only did the Thunder Hollow derby to achieve some sort of trophy… She must know she can't _really_ win the Piston Cup."

"Yeah, can't believe they're _still_ letting her race. I mean, just– just _look_ at her! There's nothing special about her!"

"She was _only a trainer_ when she joined… no training for herself, I'm assuming?"

"Yeah… don't worry, though. This race for sure, we'll put her in her place…"

" _Si_. A sorry racer for a sorry team… though it's hard to tell which is worse than the other…"

"Oh, the girl for sure. Ooh, I can't wait to whoop her– "

The final thread snapped.

Ignoring Sally's ensuing protests, McQueen chucked off his headset, slid off his podium, and made a beeline for the two rookies.

It took one or two seconds for Danny and Mike to realize that he was headed right for them. Once they did, their cocky expressions fell as they both gasped and flinched. Their eyes grew large as hubcaps. Mike swore under his breath, and Danny did the same. They looked all around their surroundings, apparently searching for an escape – like that would've helped their predicament.

"Hey! _HEY_!" McQueen thundered, freezing the rookies in their tracks, "What's goin' on here? What am I hearing?"

"Ehh… S-Señor Lightning McQueen," Danny stammered, "What… What did you hear?"

McQueen narrowed his eyes so they became slits. "I think you know…" he hissed.

Mike gulped, then rushed forwards, jabbing his tire at McQueen. "Y-You can't touch us…" he said, furrowing his eyerims, "We… We can say anything we want about your stupid apprentice! She stole our thunder anyway! We can– !"

"I might not be able to touch you," McQueen snapped, cutting Mike off, "but I can say _this_."

McQueen drove forwards, until he was mere inches away from the two rookies. He ground his teeth together before he spoke again.

"…If I hear that crap about Cruz again…" he growled, "If– If you say anything else about her, anything you should regret… I _will hear it_ … and you _will_ regret it. Got that?"

Though Danny rolled his eyes and Mike shot him a sneer, they both nodded and retreated to their respective pit crews. Letting out a huff of finality, McQueen turned back around, preparing to drive back to his own team.

"Mr. McQueen?"

"Whoa– !" McQueen halted, his tires screeching a little.

Cruz stood just in front of him, having returned from preparing back at the garages. She had on a confused expression and, when she saw she had her mentor's attention, gestured towards the cars behind him.

"…What was going on back there?" she asked.

"Uh…" McQueen said, awkwardness washing over him, "I, uh… I– I was just– "

"Wait a minute…" Cruz said then. She lifted her cab to peer over McQueen's roof. Then she looked back at him, her eyerim raised. "…Were you just talking to _those_ guys? Joyride and Swervez?"

"I…" McQueen gestured backwards with his tire. "I… I just heard them saying– "

Cruz shut him off with her loud, cackling laugh. "Mr. McQueen," she snickered, "I hear crap from those guys all the time! Like I'm gonna let it get to me!"

McQueen blinked, his eyes widening with each one. "B-But I thought… I just wanted to– "

"Oh, stop it, Mr. McQueen," Cruz said, still laughing as she and McQueen drove to their crew's pit, "I know how to handle that kind of thing. You didn't have to defend me."

McQueen snorted, suddenly bitter. "Hmph. And here I thought I was _helping_ …" he muttered.

Cruz inched forwards a little and looked at his face. Then a wry smile spread across her grill.

"Aw, look at that…" she mocked, "You really _do_ care, old man…"

"Hey, watch it kiddo," McQueen said back, though he couldn't help laughing too.

 **And how was that one? I don't know why I chose Danny and Mike to be the "hater" rookies - I just noticed that pretty much every rookie that spoke in Cars 3 were kind of jerks, or at least weren't very likable. I just chose those two cause they were the first to come to my head while writing this one.**

 **Anyway, I was pretty excited to put this one out, mostly because after I saw the movie, I was so** ** _so_** **desperate to start writing some mentor-apprentice, surrogate father-daughter stuff for McQueen and Cruz - they were totally the highlight of the film for me :D**

 **Reviews and feedback give me lifeblood :3 Likewise, please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this one :D See you later!**

 **~Pixel**


	4. Pranks for That

**I feel like this is becoming extremely redundant at this point, but yes: more spoilers for Cars 3 up ahead (mostly because of just two characters, but still).**

 **As for the source of this one, this story was suggested by Tumblr fan mynamesnotchuck. And this one, just like the last story, was extremely fun to do, mostly because I adore the characters this story focuses on :3**

 **With all that said, please enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: Again, I really don't think John Lasseter or any of the Pixar guys would give up their lovely Cars to some random fangirl on the internet :/**

"…Okay, I know this wasn't a very smart idea– "

"Then I'd recommend not doing it! Let's just back out now, shall we?"

Instead of nodding and agreeing like Bobby hoped he would, Cal's face lit up with a smirk.

" _But_ ," he continued, giving the pair of scissors he had his tire on a light tap, "it would be a shame if we didn't carry it out…"

Bobby groaned and rolled his eyes. "I knew you were going to say that…." he groused. He glanced at the thin rope Cal was prepared to cut, looked up its length; it had been threaded loosely through the suspensions in Bobby's garage, and extended past the door and into the opposite side's garages, pulled taut to hold the tarp attached to the garage's ceiling in place.

Cal rolled forwards an inch and looked out. "Nope," he said, shaking his cab, "He's still not here."

Bobby cringed. "Cal, do you…? Do you really think we should do this?"

"YES!" Cal practically yelled, "You know how many pranks he's pulled on me this season!? Heck, Bobby, _you_ were a part of some of them!"

"Yes, I am well aware of that, but…" Bobby side-eyed the rope, his upper lip curling. "…Don't you think we should wait a while for this one?"

"And just _why_ do _you_ think that?"  
"Well, 'cause, just– Cal, we're _just about to start the next race_!" Bobby jabbed a tire towards the open doorway, pointing at the racetrack. "Can you imagine how pissed he'll be if he– !?"

" _SHH_!" Cal cut him off, his voice a harsh whisper. " _He's coming!"_

Taking that as their cue, both cars retreated into the garage, certain that the shadows hid them well. They waited.

Then they watched as one of their best racing friends in the world, Lightning McQueen, drove up to the garages, humming a country tune to himself as he went along. He found his own garage – the one directly parallel to the one Bobby and Cal were hiding in – and, never missing a beat in his humming, strolled in.

Not even bothering to hide his childish snicker, Cal cut the rope.

They heard a loud splash, layered over a wet and gargled shout. Then came the sounds of sputtering and spitting, and Bobby couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing just as Cal did, right as McQueen drove out of his garage.

McQueen spotted them collapsing into giggles, appeared to put the pieces together, then shot his two friends a look of faux hatred.

"Oh. _I_ see," he yelled in a monotone voice, _"I_ see what's goin' on here!"

He was covered in a mix of purple and blue paint, courtesy of the tarp that'd fallen on him just seconds ago. Small, yellow paper flowers dotted his frame, making him look as if he belonged in a bad children's cartoon. He would probably just scare children away, Bobby decided, seeing as he had on a permanent scowl as he stared at him and Cal.

McQueen slowly shook his cab as Bobby and Cal approached him, spreading his tires as if to say _"I actually can't believe this right now"._ "…Wh– " he said, "…Just… What was…?"

Cal cackled and gave McQueen's fender a friendly shove. "Gotcha, buddy! I got you _good_!"

McQueen just blinked at him, his lips turning upwards like he wanted to laugh but wasn't sure if he should. "…Are you kidding me right now, Cal?" he asked in that same monotone voice as before, "Are you… _actually kidding me_ , dude…?"

Bobby chuckled and scraped some of the paint off of McQueen's side with a tire. "Hey, I tried to talk him out of it," he said, "I told him to wait till the end of the race, but– "

"Oh, the– _till the end of the race_!" McQueen hollered, though he was laughing too. He shook out his back tires, spraying globs of paint behind him. "So you guys were going to turn me into a washed-up clown _regardless_!"

Cal snickered. "Hey, it's alright, man," he said. He gestured with his tire. "We've only got fifteen minutes till the race anyway. Just go off to the washes, you'll be fine!" He nudged McQueen's fender then, grinning as if he were about to tell the worst joke in the world and he knew it.

"…You _are_ fast enough to do that, eh Lightning?"

McQueen froze in the middle of shaking out his front tire. Then he slowly turned to Cal, shooting him yet another glare. A tight-lipped smile spread across his grill.

"…You know, sometimes I really hate you guys…" he said.

Bobby and Cal promptly cracked up.

 **Yeah, this was another really fun one :D Even though he was a pretty minor character (and served as the butt monkey for a lot of jokes), I absolutely fell in love with Cal Weathers :3 And Bobby Swift as well! Both were really fun to watch, especially when they and McQueen pretty much had full-on prank wars after they raced XD**

 **Also, everyone who caught the Monster's University reference gets a virtual cookie :3 And yes, that is indeed a very punny title :'''DDD (Ignore me).**

 **Let me know what you thought in the reviews below! My name is Pixel, and I hope to see you all in future installments! Until then! :D**

 **~Pixel**


	5. Indirected Honor

**Guess what guys? MORE CARS 3 SPOILERS AHEAD :DDD (I swear I will absolutely stop doing this soon)**

 **Also, quite a few of you were asking for more McQueen and Cruz one-shots, and I have to say: you guys are in luck! Cause I have a lot of those planned and that's exactly who this story focuses on! :D**

 **This story was requested by Tumblr user larkfeather1153, so thank you for that request :)**

 **With all that said, please enjoy!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I think you have the wrong person. The official owners of Cars and it's related properties are over at Emeryville, California, just over yonder. Thank you.**

"Cruz Ramirez."

"Hm?" Cruz opened her eyes, her pre-training meditation having been interrupted. She turned around and saw her mentor entering through her cone's open doorway, a rolled up newspaper squished between his tire and fender. What got Cruz was that he was scowling.

 _"_ _It's not even nine in the morning yet and the old man's already cranky about something?"_ she thought.

"Oh. Hey, Mr. McQueen," she said aloud, "What's up?"

McQueen's scowl only slightly softened as he tossed the newspaper down in front of her. The front page's header in huge letters read **SPORTS & ENTERTAINMENT**, and below was a list of stories and the respective pages to find them.

"Cruz Ramirez," McQueen said again in the same quick, sharp tone as before. He flipped a few pages until he found the one labeled 4B.

"Cruz Ramirez," McQueen said, tapping the newspaper as he spoke, "would you care to explain this, please?"

Cruz looked down at the article McQueen was pointing at. Then, unable to help herself, she smirked.

The selfie she had taken during last season's second race took up the top left corner of the page. In it she had on a wide smile and motioning with a tire towards her racing team, who were just behind her going about their usual business. Anyone would've looked at the photo and smiled at the clear love and appreciation for her friends she displayed, only to be surprised at what the news article featuring it was really about. Below the photo was the short article itself, titled _'BURN! Dinoco racecar Cruz Ramirez takes Indirect Potshots at Fellow Competitor Jackson Storm with an Epic Twitter Post!'_.

"…A _hum_."

Cruz snapped her attention back to McQueen, though she never let up her sneaky grin. He raised an eyerim at her, still entirely unamused. "Well?" he asked.

Cruz's grin only seemed to grow wider. "What?" she asked back.

McQueen jabbed at the newspaper again. "Can you just look at this for a second, please?" he said, his voice sounding like he was just a few seconds away from blowing up at her "Can you just… _explain_ this, please? Just for me?"

Cruz spread her tires in a gesture of innocence. "What? There's nothing to explain, old man," she said, "Besides, I never _actually_ said Storm's name in that post. I just said that some jerks don't appreciate the old ti– "

"Never actually sai– !? _Cru-uz_!" McQueen now seemed desperate for her to be serious, despite how clear it should've been that that was impossible right now. "I've been getting messages from news circles asking me if I _or_ you hate Jackson Storm! It's all 'cause of that stupid thing you posted, isn't it?"

Cruz cocked an eyerim. "…But you _don't_ like him. That the thi– "

"No, of _course_ I don't like him, it's just– !" McQueen cut himself off with a groan, shaking his cab. "I just… I really don't know what to do with you, sometimes, you know?"

Cruz almost choked on her ensuing laugh. "What? I– 'What am I going to do with you?'," she mimicked, complete with exaggerated fender movements. "Mr. McQueen, you're not my dad."

McQueen snorted. "I'm old enough to be your dad…"

Cruz smirked again. "So you _do_ admit you're old, now?"

"Okay, that's not…" McQueen snapped, then sighed and shook his cab, making Cruz giggle more.

Cruz rolled her eyes and scooched forwards, looking over her hood to read the first paragraph of the article. After a while she said, without looking up, "I really don't get why you're even angry about it. I _was_ defending you, you know…"

"Oh, _pff_ … Really? _Really_?" McQueen asked, slipping right back into his frustration, "You threw shade at Jackson just to– ?"

"Did you just unironically say ' _Threw shade'_?"

"Oh, whatever! You insulted him in my name, and you thought the media wouldn't notice?"

Cruz shrugged. "Jeez Louise, it was just a post. I didn't actually insult him, anyway. Look." She spun the newspaper around so it faced McQueen and then tapped the article with her tire. "See? I wrote _So #blessed to have such an amazing racing team! Especially when I'm being trained by the Fabulous Lightning McQueen, such an amazing and inspirational guy! Some cars might not think the same way, but_ I _definitely do_ – !"

"See that? Right _there_ ," McQueen interrupted, his eyes skimming the page, "and, if you keep going, apparently right before you put that up, Jackson was over on his account talking about how 'unskilled certain old champions had become'! The press notices that stuff, Cruz! They eat it up! They search out celebs to cover and they look specifically for crap like this! Not even two seasons into your racing career and you already have drama on your name. Are you satisfied?"

Cruz's smile finally faded. She held out her tires. "Okay, okay, fine, I'm sorry Mr. McQueen," she said, "But…"

"But _what_?"

"Well… it's just, you can't tell me _you_ never caused drama when you were a rookie. I'm sure you did it without even trying, I mean, _I_ just did it without even trying!"

"Okay, _that's_ … Alright, yes, I did, a little, but– "

Cruz gave his fender a friendly shove, mostly to get him to reverse out of her cone. "Mr. McQueen, I tell you what. I won't do it again. Fine. If it'll make you happy, I'll throw you some positivity without raining on anyone else. That's fine. I can live with that. But just know something: I know how the press works. I know how the internet and plenty of other cars will eat up any drama they can find. You don't have to police me, okay? Besides, it wasn't even that important to them, they made it tiny and put it on the left side of the page. I see news and posts lie that all the time and they always blow over. They'll find some other celebrity to pick on. And anyway, isn't it time for us to start training again?" she added, rolling out of her cone.

She was already beginning to drive up the main road when she heard her mentor huff and accelerate to make it to her side. His eyerims were still furrowed, and he stared at the asphalt as they drove.

"…Just…" he finally said after a while, "…Just be careful what you say over there, Cruz. You never know when the press will turn on you."

Cruz glanced at him and grinned. She raised an eyerim. "Okay," she said, "are you _sure_ you're not trying to be my dad? Cause _that_ just sounded a lot like dad-speak!"

For the first time that morning, McQueen actually laughed. It was just a light chuckle, but still. "Okay now, wait a minute," he said, angling a tire towards her, "I thought _you_ were the one who was saying I wasn't your dad?"

Cruz couldn't help snickering. "Hey, you _know_ you act like it sometimes! Remember when you ripped Joyride and Swervez a new one for poking fun at me?"

"Hey, they weren't just poking fun at you! You should've heard the crap they– !"

Cruz laughed with her mentor all the way to Willie's Butte.

 **So how was** ** _that_** **one, guys? Yeah, I'm not really a huge fan of this one, sorry... I don't know why. I just don't think it's my best work ever. Meh. Let me know what you guys thought in the reviews :)**

 **I hope to see all you awesome readers in the next one! Until then! :D**

 **~Pixel**


	6. In the Midst of the Afterparty

**Alright, a couple things before this one starts:**

 **1.) Yes, there are definitely loads of Cars 3 spoilers ahead.**

 **2.) This was a request from reoccurringfate on Tumblr.**

 **3.) This oneshot ended up being WAY longer than what I first intended. This is probably because it required a lot more buildup than the previoud stories. So, just a hads up: this one is definitely longer.**

 **4.) This was both a really interesting and really challenging story to write. Mostly because it focuses on a character that I honestly don't care for and don't really know if this could happen realistically, mostly because we as viewers have no idea what this character's past or personal life is really like (then again, expanding on stuff that didn't get that much coverage in the canon is kind of what fanfiction is for XD)**

 **Anywho, please enjoy this one!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I can't believe I'm still driving this joke deeper into the ground...**

Jackson figured that this day would never run out of surprises to throw at him.

For one thing, Lightning McQueen had come back to Florida to race again. Jackson definitely hadn't expected that, not after that brutal crash capped off his losing streak just four months ago. And then the old timer surprised him again by backing out right in the middle of the race to let some newbie from the Rusteze Racing Center fill in for him.

And _then_ came yet another surprise, one that he would've never even considered: he lost. That new girl – the newbie McQueen had picked out – _she'd_ beat him. She'd earned the top spot after just one race after he'd been training for years to get this far.

Thus giving way to his biggest surprise that day: at the afterparty that his own sponsors organized for all the racers, he was sitting in the back of the room with a can of oil, alone, with none of the other rookies cheering him or congratulating him on his win.

Instead, they were congratulating _her_. The new girl.

He could see her from where he sat. She was at the center table, chattering away with at least five other rookies. And those rookies looked like they couldn't get enough of hearing her talk. They laughed and joked with her and, for perhaps the billionth time, congratulated her and asked her about her strategy and how she became involved with Lightning McQueen and blah blah blah. She never seemed to tire of their questions. In fact, to Jackson, it looked like she could babble on to these guys all night. He could hear her telling stories and saying "Thank you" to every single compliment they threw at her.

Jackson was amazed at how many of his fellow rookies actually liked her. She was a literal small-town nobody that waltzed in at the last minute and then _stole their victory from them_. They had to have taken _some_ offense to that. Obviously, some did dislike her for those exact reasons – Mike Joyride and Danny Swervez, for example – but, somehow, it seemed like nearly all of the other rookies didn't share the same sentiment.

Jackson hadn't socialized very much with the other rookies; he'd decided very early on in his career that he didn't want to "get friendly with the competition". Still, he definitely felt their absence from his own table.

And yet, when he looked back at that new girl – Ramirez. That was her name. Cruz Ramirez. – he didn't feel jealous.

That had to be one of the biggest surprises today, on par with her arriving on the track. He should've been furious – both with her and himself, simply for losing to a freaking newbie.

Maybe it had to with her charm – and she _was_ charming. Maybe. Just a little. He could hear it in her cackly laugh and infectious enthusiasm for absolutely everything. No one could get mad at that. Maybe he was just angry with himself. He _did_ let her get into his head, didn't keep her in check enough (though seriously, _how_ could he have predicted her to jump over him to win?).

Maybe it was because of something a little weirder – weirder for him, at least. It might've been because of the single thought floating in the back of his mind, that he was angry at himself for a completely different reason.

That he was angry at himself for doing what he did. When he couldn't get into her head and shake her up like he'd always shook her big red new crew chief up. When he'd stooped to doing way more than just getting into her head.

When he'd gotten so mad and her and the race and the inevitable that he'd actually slammed her into the wall…

Yup. There it went again. That pang in his tank that without fail went off whenever he thought back to that moment.

Jackson grumbled and pushed his drink away, no longer thirsty. He pulled out his phone and opened up a new internet browser tab. He went straight to his Twitter feed and, just as he expected, no one was shutting up about the race. More specifically, no one could shut up about the new girl– Ramirez. No one could shut up about Ramirez. The top posts all said the same things – "WOW! A new champion and no one even saw her coming!" "Check out Lightning McQueen's new apprentice, Cruz Ramirez!" "Cruz Ramirez is such an angel I love her :DDD"

Somewhere in the feed of praise Jackson found a post transcribed with the brief interview she'd had with the reporters right after she won the race. Apparently she grew up in a tiny town in Hidalgo, Texas, and always dreamed of racing before becoming just a trainer. Then she actually became a racer when Lightning McQueen went to get her to help him for this dumb race. Switching roles at the last minute. Jackson still wasn't sure how he felt about this whole ordeal, so he decided he felt inspired by her.

 _"_ _I guess…"_

"Hey Jackson!"

Jackson looked up from his phone. From across the room he spied the car who'd called him: one very smiley, very excited Ryan "Inside" Laney.

Jackson didn't say or do anything. He just watched his fellow rookie with a blank expression as he made his way towards his table.

Ryan was one of the very few other rookies with whom Jackson had socialized with before. He'd only spoken to him a couple of times this season, though it was enough for Jackson to get a complete read on his personality. In particular, it answered the question of why he called himself "Inside" Laney. Because he had this weird ability to see inside someone's mind and know exactly what they were feeling. At least, that's what it felt like.

"Hey, Jackson," Ryan said as he parked next to Jackson's table, "You sulking over here?"

Jackson shot him a look.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry." Ryan then gestured with a tire. "You talked to Cruz yet?"

Jackson became suddenly interested in his phone again. "No," he mumbled, swiping his tire across the screen to scroll down the feed page.

"Mm," he heard Ryan say, "You really should. She's actually really nice. She's pretty nice too! I'm sure she wouldn't mind talki– "

"Ryan."

Ryan shut up immediately. Jackson lifted his cab and looked his friend dead in the eyes, his jaw clenched and his eyerims furrowed.

"Ryan," Jackson snapped again, "please shut up."

Ryan recoiled at his sharp tone. "Jeez…" He turned away, huffing a little. "Sorr-y…"

Jackson glanced back down at his phone. He felt like he should keep scrolling, pretend that Ryan wasn't even there. Instead, his tire just hovered over the screen like he couldn't decide what to do next.

"…I just…" He actually sighed, gaining back Ryan's full attention. "…I dunno. I just feel weird…"

"Hmm…" Ryan clucked his tongue. "…You feeling bad for losing the race? Or is it something about Cruz?"

Jackson shrugged. "I don't know…"

"It's something about Cruz, isn't it?"

"…Sure…"

"You're feeling bad about pushing her into the wall so you could beat her, aren't you?"

"…"

"Yeah, I gotcha. That _was_ a pretty crap thing to do, dude."

"…"

"Hey, Jack, I'm not sayin' that to make you feel bad. I'm just sayin' that it _was_ pretty crap. But I'm just saying, Cruz seems nice enough. Maybe if you talk to her and apologize maybe she can– "

"Ryan," Jackson said again, almost breaking his phone in two by slamming his tire into it. He shot his fellow rookie a steel-melting glare.

"Ryan," he said in a rough voice, "I am _not_ talking to her. I just said that. And I'm sticking by it. And you're getting nowhere when you tell me to. So please. Shut. _Up_."

"Jeez Louise," Ryan huffed again, his upper lip curling slightly. He turned away from Jackson, rolling his eyes. "…Forgive me for trying to _help_ …"

Jackson let out a silent sigh and went back to his phone. He hadn't been paying attention to how far he'd been scrolling, and when he'd stopped to snap at Ryan again, he hadn't noticed the image that he'd stopped on.

 _Her._ The new girl. Ramirez. Lightning McQueen's newfound protégé.

Jackson didn't scroll any further. He kept staring down at the bright screen, his mind going straight back to the race and Ramirez and everything he was mad at himself for. He thought about leaving. He thought about heading out when no one was looking and talking to Gale about this whole mess. She was good at those kinds of talks, anyway.

Then he heard Ryan groan. A long, wincing type of groan.

"Oh, good Ford in heaven, what does _he_ want…?"

Jackson glanced up and followed Ryan's eyes. Then, when he spotted _him_ , Jackson mentally repeated what Ryan had stated.

Chase Racelott was making his way across the room, a sly smile on his face and a slight strut in his drive. Jackson knew him. He'd only spoken to him once his entire life, but just like with Ryan, with just one conversation Jackson knew everything about this guy. And not even Jackson was sure he liked cars like him.

He saw Chase making a beeline for the center table – Ramirez's table, he realized – and he mumbled aloud "Oh _hell_ no…"

Chase stopped when he sat right next to Ramirez. Then he cleared his throat and lifted his cab. "Ahem, 'scuse me?" he said, "You're Cruz Ramirez, right?"

"What?" Ramirez had been in the middle of talking with Bubba Wheelhouse and cut herself off when she heard Chase speak. She turned to face him and, like she was just then registering his question, smiled her wide smile. "Oh yeah. That's me!" she replied, lifting her own cab in her pride, "Who're you?"

Chase's dirt-eating grin returned to his grill. "Chase Racelott, Miss Ramirez," he said, doing a slight bow, "So, this was your first race, correct?"

"Oh, _pfff,_ you don't have to call me that," Ramirez chuckled, "Just Cruz is fine. And, yeah! This was my first race!"

"Really?" Chase replied, sounding like he was astonished though he really wasn't. "Oh, my first race was _months_ ago. Years ago, actually. I'm practically a veteran, now."

Ramirez snorted. "No, you're not. You're one of the "Next Gens" that Natalie Certain lady keeps talking about on her show." Then she beamed as she continued, and Jackson knew exactly why.

"But, Mr. McQu– um, Lightning McQueen, _he's_ the real veteran here. I'm sure he would've won the race anyway, but– _wow_ , did it feel awesome when he let me do it! Gosh, if I could have that moment again…"

As soon as Ramirez had shifted the conversation to McQueen, Chase's grin had faded slightly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure that's amazing," he said, scooching a little closer to her, "but… I gotta know, Cruz, what're you doing later?"

"Uh– me?" Ramirez asked. "Um…" She snorted another laugh, gesturing towards the nearest window, which gave a full view of the pitch-black sky. "…I think I'm going to bed later?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you're doing to _night_ ," Chase said, now a little bit too close to Ramirez, "But… I'd like to know about later on. Y'know. Later on in the week."

Jackson felt his teeth clench. _"…Dodge Ram you, Chase…"_

Like she'd finally caught onto Chase's act just like Jackson had, Ramirez's cheery look faltered. "Uh…" She glanced down at the nonexistent space between them and then reversed, earning herself her personal space back. "Uh…" she said again, "I… was planning to keep training with Mr. McQueen so I can keep raci– "

"Oh come on, you gotta have a life outside of that!" Chase insisted, scooching way too close again, "You must have some free days! Everyone does…"

Bubba Wheelhouse, who Jackson noticed had been listening to this entire conversation, furrowed his eyerims and began making his way to the other side of the table. "Chase," he said, a slight edge to his voice, "what're you doing?"

Chase's own eyerims shot upwards as he whipped around to face Bubba. "Hey, Bubba, when you think about it, _you're_ the weird one here!" He pointed at Ramirez. "You were just talking to a pretty girl for Ford knows how long and you _didn't_ ask her out?"

 _"_ _DODGE RAM YOU CHASE…"_

Ramirez seemed to react the same way as Jackson. She reversed even further away, a look of pure disgust on her face. "Excuse me, _what_!? Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me!"

As he watched Chase continue asking her, even after such a clear refusal, Jackson actually felt his tank boiling. His engine felt like it was about to burst into flame.

In the midst of his fury he remembered everything he knew about Ramirez – her hometown, her trainer days, her dream to race, almost having that dream crushed just hours ago by him –

"Uh, Jack?" Ryan Laney made in through the red haze and tapped Jackson's fender. "You, uh… you doing oka– ?"

"Ryan, watch my drink."

With that, without stopping to listen to Ryan's ensuing "Wait, what?", Jackson created a surprise that surpassed that surpassed his earlier loss.

He took off.

"HEY!" he hollered, "Hey, Chase! RACELOTT!"

Chase, Bubba, and Ramirez all flinched when they heard him. Chase whipped around and, upon seeing him coming, he paled, his eyes growing to the size of hubcaps.

"Whoa whoa, uh, Jackson!" Chase held out his front tires as if to hold him back. "Jackson, what're you– !?"

"Hey, Racelott, what's wrong with you over here?" Jackson barked, shoving his face towards his fellow rookie. "Didn't you hear _anything_ she said? Or can you just not take a hint?"

Chase stammered. "Uh– "

Jackson pointed at Ramirez– Cruz. He pointed at Cruz.

" _She_ wants no part of you!" Jackson growled, "Can't you see that? She wants no part of you, and frankly, _I_ wouldn't either!"

Chase recovered from his shock and furrowed his eyerims. "Hey," he snapped, rising up on his chassis, "I don't know who you think you are, Jack-a-boy, but _we_ were having a private conversation! I don't know why _you_ think you have the higher moral ground when you– !"

Jackson shot him another dagger glare. "She's not interested in you, Racelott," he hissed, "Can't you see that? Besides, don't you think she's got other things to focus on than you making a date out of her? She's way more than just "that freaking pretty girl". She just won her first race today, and she made it very clear that she wants to keep training. Not waste her time with some mudflap like _you_ who doesn't care about boundaries!"

Upon hearing the mudflap comment, Chase became indignant. "Why, you little– !"

Jackson quickly shut him up again. "She doesn't want to talk to you, Racelott." He jerked his cab towards the other side of the room. "Go on. Piss off."

Chase gritted hit teeth and raised a tire. "You Dodge Ramming…"

" _Piss_. _OFF_ ," Jackson repeated, stressing every syllable. He jabbed his tire at the back of the room now, his eyes wide and wild.

For a few moments no one did anything. Jackson and Chase just kept staring each other down, neither car backing down an inch. Then, finally, Chase shot him a glare and hissed under his breath, "….Ffffffffine…." before skulking away, his frame much lower on his chassis.

Jackson watched him as he drove away, then gave a slight snort of approval. _"Good riddance…"_

"Whoa…"

Jackson almost jumped at the voice. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten Cruz was there.

He turned back around and faced her.

She stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth dropped open. She looked at where Chase had drove off, then back at Jackson.

Jackson didn't say anything for a moment. He just let his face soften, let himself get back into a peaceful state of mind.

After a while he said, "…You doing alright?"

"Oh, uh…" Cruz blinked once, then shook her cab. "I'm fine. That, uh…" A tiny grin spread across her grill. "That was pretty– "

" _Wow_ …" said Bubba, whose presence Jackson just remembered as well. He drove up next to his competitor, giving him a light fender shove as he chuckled. "That was… That was incredible, Jackson! Nice job putting Racelott where he belongs!"

Jackson looked away again, saying nothing.

Bubba looked from Jackson to Cruz, Cruz to Jackson. Then, he cleared his throat. "Well, I should probably get going," he said, already beginning to back away. He tapped Jackson's fender as he went along. "Catch you later, Storm! See ya, Cruz!"

Now Jackson jolted his gaze back up. "Whoa whoa, wait, Bubba, you don't have to– "

But he was already gone. Disappeared, leaving Jackson behind with Cruz Ramirez, the new girl, Lightning McQueen's new trainee, the official rookie who everyone was falling in love with.

Jackson faced Cruz, a quiet sigh escaping him. He still didn't say anything. Neither did Cruz. And in that moment of silence it hit Jackson how ridiculous it all sounded – here he was, sitting right in front of the new Piston Cup champion, the same one whom he'd tried to crush into a wall earlier that day.

Finally, after a while of it, Jackson decided to break through the silence.

"…I hear you were a trainer before you started racing?"

"…Oh. Oh yeah, _pfff_ …" Cruz laughed, rolling her eyes. "I mean, it's not that I wasn't good at it. I was one of Rusteze's top trainers – no, I'm not making that up. But yeah, I always did think racing was a better fit for me."

Jackson smiled. Just a little. "…Bet you were glad that that McQueen guy found you, eh?"

Cruz nodded. "Yeah, well, he didn't really 'find me', it was more like he was assigned to me as a trainee, but…" She stared up at the ceiling then, that giddy smile he'd seen on her earlier spreading across her grill.

"…yeah," she finished, sounding seconds away from bursting into that laugh of hers again, "…it was pretty awesome that he decided to train me…"

Jackson chuckled, though eventually he got a sour taste in his mouth. His smile faded and he glanced at the ground.

"…I'm sorry…"

He said it so quietly, almost mumbled it. Yet, somehow, Cruz still heard it. "What? What… did you just say– ?"

"I'm sorry," Jackson repeated, a bit louder this time. He forced himself to look back at Cruz as he spoke. He shuffled a tire. "…Y'know… for what I did during the race…"

Realization dawned on Cruz's face. "Oh... Oh! It's… okay, I guess…" she said, shrugging, "I mean… the competition got pretty heated anyway, so I don't blame you for getting mad– "

Jackson winced. "N-No, that… That shouldn't be my excuse, I was just… I was so…" Then he sighed again, sinking a little lower on his chassis. "… _Ford_ , I don't know…"

"Hey," Cruz said, raising an eyerim at him. She gave him yet another smile. "It was never an excuse, I'm not calling it that. I'm just saying you're forgiven. Thanks for apologizing. I don't think any of those other guys would've probably done it, so thanks. For apologizing, I mean," she quickly added.

The corner of Jackson's mouth twitched. "Heh. Thanks," he said as he lifted himself up again.

Cruz took in a breath to say something else – she _still wanted to keep talking to him_ – however an electronic ping interrupted her. Once Jackson realized it was her radio going off, Cruz held up a tire, said "Hang on,", and listened.

"…Yeah? Yeah, I'm still at the party," she said, "…Yeah… Okay, sure, yeah. Just wait, I'll be right there."

She turned back to Jackson, an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry, I gotta go," she said, gesturing towards the door to Jackson's far left, "Mr. McQueen wants to talk to me. Probably more racing stuff."

Jackson nodded. "That's fine." He prepared to drive back to his own table. But, of course, Cruz wasn't done.

"I'll be seeing you on the racetrack, Storm!" she chirped, waving at him, "You'd better be prepared to lose again!"

Jackson didn't say his own goodbye. He just smiled and gave her a curt nod.

His smile didn't let up as he watched her drive away. He felt different. Like his screw up on the track had never happened. Like he could burst from the warmth inside his tank. He imagined that McQueen guy had felt the exact same way when he chose Cruz Ramirez to succeed him.

As he made his way back to his own table where Ryan Laney still sat waiting, Jackson figured he might just get used to all these surprises.

Maybe.

 **How was** ** _that_** **one, guys? Just like the last one, I'm really not sure - I'm not really a Jackson Storm fan, nor did I ever plan to write anything that centered around him, but this request gave me an opportunity to see if I could redeem him even just a little bit, so I hope I achieved at least that. Also, no, this was not at all meant to be a shipfic - this is just Jackson apologizing to Cruz and her forgiving him (and maturing because of his experience that day).**

 **Anyway, let me know what you guys think in the reviews below! Until my next oneshot! :D**

 **~Pixel**


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